Can I really forget?
by LittleLonelyBunny
Summary: Yami's father has died, and he's struggling with himself. YYxYB Darkshipping
1. Chapter 1

AN : Just an idea in my head. Don't like it don't look. Otherwise, let me know what you think and send any requests if you want.

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Rain dropped slowly and softly against the window.  
Sighing, he slid down from the windowsill, cursing the miserable weather. He looked around in hope there would be something to grab his attention. Releasing yet another sigh, he sat and flicked through the card deck that he knew by heart now, every now and then stopping to admire one of his favourites.  
Placing them down, he began pacing the house, knowing he'd find nothing but more solitude and futility. Ever since his father had died, he'd lost his zest for life. Before, he could be the life and soul of the party within 5 minutes of arriving. Friends with everyone and enemy of none, he knew you could get byperfectly well without hurting anybody. So why had this happened to him? What had he done wrong?  
Venting his frustrations on a door through his foot, the male sank back down and ran his fingers through his hair.  
It was rather strange hair. The way it had seven points AN:last time I looked anyway, golden bangs striking through each one like lightning.  
The strange border of colour around the edges, black melding into red flawlessly. His hand proceeded to fiddle with the chain around his neck. It was white gold, and had small footprints engraved on the back. It had been a gift from his father; proof of the bond they once had.

Yami had heard no end of times how much he looked like his father. The way his bangs fell down his face, the way his eyes could piercingly stare anybody down; noone lied to Yami as they knew it was futile - he would see straight through it. His father had said how much he respected him for coming out as gay, only a week before his death. Yami was angry on two counts - one, that he'd waited to tell him, and two, that his father had been taken away from him.  
Indeed, his father had joked about bringing men back to the house for him. Anyone else saying it would have offended him, but the joke in his voice, and the smile his father always wore made sure Yami didn't threaten to beat his father with a wooden spoon.

Yami also wore a ring, on his right index finger. It was engraved with a sword surrounded by flames. Everyone asked if it was something to do with Flame Swordsman. Yami always answered with a simple no, and said he just liked the pattern. This wasn't true - his father had got it as a gift for him, saying it was to remind him to keep the fire in his heart always. Yami wore it as reverance. He blamed himself for his fathers death.

Shaking tears from his eyes, he sank back into his seat, wishing it would consume him altogether. It was then something changed. "Yami..." His head jerked up, sure he had heard a whisper. His eyes returned to his knees, trying to convince himself it was just the wind. Yes, the wind. He stood up, directing his steps to the kitchen. His hand subconsciously traced the engravement on his ring, stopping only to pick up a glass. Standing at the sink as the tap filled his glass, he heard it again. "Yami..." It was louder this time. Someone wanted him to know they were watching him. Deciding it could wait 10 seconds, he downed his water.

"Shit!" He cursed, having cut his hand on the glass he'd just dropped. He'd felt a hand run across the small of his back. It hadn't so much touched, rather ghosted across his back. It was enough to make him drop the glass, and feel a shiver run down his spine. Turning, his eyes scanned the room. Nothing. Was he losing his mind? Shaking his head,  
he turned to run his cut under the tap. "Keep shaking your head like that and it'll rattle your brain." The whisper was louder this time, now a low voice. A voice that stirred something in Yami's mind. He knew that voice.

He sensed something behind him, out in the hallway. Slowly edging toward it, and unsure whether his eyes were playing tricks on him, he saw the faintest silhouette in the shadows cast on the wall. "Who's there?" Yami asked, not really expecting an answer. He was therefore surprised to hear a very husky voice saying almost inaudibly "Now then it wouldn't be a surprise would it?" Before his eyes could even adjust to the darkness, the shadow had crossed over and pressed himself against Yami. He felt warm breath on his neck; in spite of himself he felt tingles run down his body. "Now Yami, are you ready for your surprise?" As the mouth edged closer, Yami closed his eyes.  
He felt lips press to his neck, gently tracing kisses up and down his jugular vein. A small bite from the shadow made Yami notice his two fang teeth were abnormally sharp. His eyes flew open. He knew who the shadow was.

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I'm aware it's a lame ending to the first chapter, but still. Reviews would be good!


	2. Chapter 2

Despite the tingles running down his body from the touches, Yami forced himself to push the shadow away.  
"So you realised then Pharoah?" the husky voice inquired. Yami reached for the light switch, and his suspicions were confirmed. "Tomb-Robber." "Yes Pharoah, you aren't the only spirit to have gained a body of your own. And I intend to have as much fun as possible with this one." He licked his lips, tracing the tip of his tongue over his fanged teeth. "And anyway, you can call me Bakura. The tomb robber bore his light alot of resemblance, with chocolate brown eyes and snow-white hair. However, his light lacked one thing; sex appeal. The knowledge of the many terrible things this man had done over many millenia, his complete lack of remorse for any of it, and those markings under his eyes nobody had ever found out where he acquired them. His light was shorter and stockier, though not by much.  
Another difference was their tone of voice. Ryou's seemed like it was a constant stream of threats, Bakura's was sweet as sugar, and so gentle, much like his attitude.

Yami's eyes had glazed over from being lost in his thoughts, failing to notice the lights going back off, and the shadowy male edging closer to him. He was pulled back to reality when the thief pressed his lips down on him, and a sharp shot of pain came from a fang puncturing his lip. The thief smirked into the kiss, and traced over the cut with his tongue, tasting the blood of the ruler he had spent so long tormenting. Yami conceeded, knowing this man would do anything to get what he wanted. Bakura pushed his tongue into the others mouth, tracing every contour, every tooth. Meanwhile, his hands did a little exploring themselves, running over Yami's tanned, muscular frame. Having expected to stay home alone that evening, Yami hadn't gone to the trouble of a shirt.

As Bakura's hands continued to travel down, reason caught up with him, and Yami pushed the tomb-robber from him, ending both his explorations. Reaching to his lip, he felt the small cut, and the steady trickle of blood onto his fingers. This was the second time he'd ended up with blood on his hands tonight, and both times his own. Turning away from the thief, he walked over to the sink again to wash the blood off his face and hands. He heard a low growl issuing from the tomb robber, and light footsteps across the kitchen floor. Having finished, Yami turned for a towel, and found himself backed up against the sink. The cold metal on the small of his back made him shiver.  
"I'm not finished with you." Bakura's voice had sunk to a dangerously low growl. Yami recognised it as him being angry. He raised his sights to look directly into the brown eyes, and say an array of emotions there. Neither broke eye contact, despite Yami feeling the continued warm trickle of blood down his chin.

Just as it both crossed their minds that this seemed like a bizarre staring contest, Yami's cellphone rung. The name '_Light_' flashed across the screen. Answering it, he said "Hello Yugi." "Hey Yami! Weathers awful huh? Ah well, it can always be sunny tomorrow instead! Anyway, back to why I called. Ryou said his dark has gone AWOL, you don't happen to know where he could be do you? You know, you both being darks and all." Yami turned to look at the thief,  
seeing the smirk on his face. "No, I haven't any idea where he could be. I'd just suggest he tries some darker parts of town. Don't let him go alone though!" "Ok, thanks Yami." Yami hung up, placing his cell on the side. "I take it my light is worrying as always?" "Yeah, he wants to know where you are." The thief continued smirking as he said "Why did you lie about seeing me then? I know I hide well, but I'd have thought you'd noticed me by now." Yami couldn't answer. Why **had** he lied about it? Did he want to keep Bakura here? "Hey! I wish you'd quit zoning out like that and answer me Pharoah." The last word was laced with contempt, as though Bakura hated referring to him as his superior.  
Yami looked up, feeling somewhat confused. "You look a little puzzled Pharoah. Is something wrong?" Bakura asked, with a clear smirk on his face, as though he could see the battle raging on in Yami's head. "Allow me to straighten things out." He placed a hand under Yami's chin, tilting his face up to meet him in a kiss. Yami winced slightly, his cut lip feeling quite sore. He decided to just give in and let things happen. It may even take his mind off his... father.

Bakura pulled away, and raised a hand to his own face, then looked up at Yami's. "Are you... crying?" Yami looked up,  
and to his shock saw genuine concern in the tomb-robbers eyes. A steady flow of tears ran down Yami's face, falling onto his chest and mixing with the blood from his cut lip. Bakura turned, found a clean dishtowel, and rubbed gently along his chest, before putting his arms round Yami's waist and pulling him into a hug. Yami clung onto Bakura, and began sobbing. He hadn't cried like this since the funeral. Bakura felt the patch of dampness on his shoulder, making a note to wash his shirt when he got home. He gently rocked the sobbing pharoah, making gentle shh-ing noises in his ear, hoping to slowly calm him down. He was surprised at himself more than anything, surprised that he even cared that the pharoah was upset. Didn't he only come here for a good time?


	3. Chapter 3

Ok, so the last chapter blew. I'm new at this, so please forgive my not-brilliant writing. Always remember I am open to suggestion and request.

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Yami's breathing started to even out, and he forced some control over his sobbing. He went to move away from Ryou, but found his movement prohibited by the thief's arms wrapped around his waist. He was too emotionally confused to bother trying to exert any force over the situation, and simply lay his head on Ryou's shoulder, breathing in the scent of his neck. Ryou supressed a shiver as he felt the warm breath on his neck, and they simply stood there like this for a while, until Ryou felt it appropriate to slowly move his arms from around the pharoahs waist. Yami stepped back, and looked through swollen eyes at the tomb-robber. A few stray tears still lingered on his face. In spite of himself, Ryou found his hand up on Yami's face wiping away the tears. "Maybe I should go." Was all he could say, and turned for the door. He felt small fingers close on his wrist. "Please, stay with me? I don't want to be alone right now." The pleading look in his red swollen eyes made it impossible for even the tomb-robber to say no. He nodded, and went in search of tissue for Yami. Coming back to the small man, he handed him the tissue, then pulled him back into a hug. He was surprised at himself, the actions came to him without realising, subconscious even. Yami wiped his face, then wrapped an arm round Ryou's waist, resting his head on his chest. Ryou could feel his heartbeat against Yami's head. Yami found it soothing, almost like a lullaby. He felt his eyes close, his emotional exhaustion taking over. Ryou felt the weight on him increase, and noticed the Pharoah had fallen asleep. Hitching his arms around him differently, he lifted up Yami, thanking Ra he was small and light. He carefully carried him upstairs, looking around for his bedroom. Locating a bed, he carefully lowered Yami to it, untangled himself from the small man.

Ryou stepped away, intending to slip away, leaving him to sleep. He turned to look at him one more time, smiling at how innocent Yami looked, peaceful in his slumber. He found himself drawn to the young man, unable to leave. So he sat, leaning against the wall, watching Yami's chest rise and fall. He felt the strangest urge to run his fingers through Yami's hair, the strange colour and style of it captivating him. He pushed a golden bang out of the closed eyes, placed a kiss on his forehead, and resumed his post simply watching the man sleep. After a few hours, Ryou found his own eyes drifting closed.  
He awoke with a start, laying on the floor. Not entirely sure what had woke him up, yet feeling as wide awake as if someone had shouted down his ear. Taking in the surroundings, he was momentarily worried about where he was, then the events of last night came back to him. Pushing himself up, he was worried to see Yami wasn't in his bed. Standing up, with the intention of looking for him, he had barely taken one step forward when Yami came back through the door,  
handing Bakura a coffee. "You're awake then?" Yami weakly grinned. "I have to say, I don't find your wall particularly comfortable. Next time we have a sleepover I'll need somewhere more comfortable." Yami was certain the thief winked at him as he said that, and turned his head to hide his faint blush.

They both sat in silence for a while, drinking their coffee. Bakura, ever the charmer, burped loudly. Yami let out a schoolgirl giggle, then realised Bakura was still sat on the floor. He shuffled over and patted the bedspace next to him. Bakura put his cup on the bedside table and sat next to him. Yami did the same then wrapped his arms around Bakura. "After everything in Egypt, I can't believe I'm saying this; but thankyou for being here." Bakura spent a few seconds trying to work out what Yami said, before shrugging and returning the embrace. Again, they stayed in silence like that, until Yami reached up and kissed Bakura on the cheek. Bakura found himself smiling, before turning to kiss the Pharoah properly. Yami froze up, then responded slowly. 'What's going on here? I couldn't stand this tomb-thief, now I'm just so happy he's here. Oh I'm so confused.' Yami's thoughts ran wild as Bakura slowly pushed him down onto the bed, crawling on top of him, all the while never breaking their liplock. Yami twitched as he felt Bakura's hands run up under his shirt, tracing the shape of his ribcage, the faint traces of scars across his chest.

Bakura broke the kiss for the sake of air, pulling back slightly to look at Yami's face. Blood-red met crimson red, and Bakura saw amongst other things,  
lust and wanting in Yami's eyes. He could tell he wanted this, but Bakura felt as though something was holding him back. He felt... sorry, and worried, as though he'd be taking advantage of Yami in a vulnerable state. Wait, since when did he care? Kissing Yami again, he tried to push his reservations to the back of his mind. Finding that he couldn't, he pushed himself up and sat aside Yami. Yami sat up, panting slightly, with a confused look on his face. "What's going on Bakura? You've been more back and forth than a park swing tonight." Bakura shifted, leant back on the wall and sighed. "Oddly enough, I'm worried about you. I don't want to take advantage of you when your so emotionally unstable." Yami smiled, and wrapped an arm round Bakura's waist. "Thank you for caring." Bakura sat mulling over this sudden change of relationship between the two, from hating each others guts to being... _intimate_? "Will you just, lay with me? I don't want to be alone tonight." Bakura nodded, and Yami shifted over to give him somewhere to sleep. Bakura lay down next to Yami, wrapping his arms round his waist and pulling him close. Yami nuzzled his head on Bakura's shoulder, in his soft, fluffy white hair, and quickly fell back to sleep.  
Bakura lay watching him, before drifting off to sleep himself.

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Yes, I'm aware of this being no good. But, nobody is forcing you to read this. Next update soon, hopefully I'll improve at this.


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry about slow update, working on like four other things.

Yami's eyes slowly opened a few hours later, trying to glance out of the window, but his vision obscured by a great deal of fluffy white hair. He went to snuggle back into the warmth, before remembering last night, and just who was in his bed. He leapt backwards, managing to hit his head quite spectacularly off the wall. The resounding thud, coupled with the cold now Yami had moved, woke Bakura. He yawned and stretched, before fully opening his eyes. Looking over at Yami, who was rubbing the back of his head with a pained look on his face, Bakura sat up, looking quite confused with the whole situation. Him, Yami's bed. Yes, the whole thing rather confused him.

Yami clambered off his bed, trying not to touch Bakura in the process. Stretching out, he realised he was still shirtless. Blushing, he grabbed one off the back of a chair and pulled it on. Turning round, he saw Bakura hadn't moved, and was just sitting on the bed, watching him. "So, um, what actually went on over the past 24 hours?" Yami blurted out; his head buzzing with so many questions he was struggling to keep them controlled. "You tell me. I remember you crying. And getting blood down you. And coffee... I remember coffee." Bakura looked a bit dreamy, til he jumped back to reality as Yami spoke. "Well, I think we should just never tell anyone of this. And forget about it." Bakura seemed to consider this for a second, before standing up, Yami assuming he was going to leave. He took a step back, to allow Bakura to get past. As Bakura reached him, Yami got quite a shock. He'd somehow found himself on the receiving end of one hell of a kiss. Bakura slowly pushed against him, backing Yami against the wall. Their bodies flush together, Yami's arms found themselves around Bakura's waist. One of Bakura's hands was on his cheek, slowly caressing it with his thumb. The other perched on the edge of Yami's hip. An intense battle for control was fought by their tongues, both putting as much emotion into it as they could until dizziness kicked in from lack of air. Staggering apart, they both breathed heavily for a moment, before Yami turned to the thief.

"What happened to you wanting to kill me and all then?" Yami's voice was only just audible, the lack of oxygen in his brain making him feel fuzzy. "I don't know. Back in Ancient Egypt, whenever I saw anyone of your blood, my own boiled with rage. I spent hours considering just how I'd slowly and painfully slaughter you. I'd laugh to myself at the thought of you drowning in your own blood, as I used your internal organs to make a border around you..." Bakura's smile became sadistic, his eyes glazed over. Yami gave him ten seconds before shaking his shoulder. "Bakura?" His eyes snapped shut and open, before he looked up at Yami. "Anyway, yes I used to feel like that. That anger, its just gone. I don't recall when, or how for that matter; but it just doesn't seem to be there.  
And without the desire to cut you into nothing but atoms, I can appreciate just how attractive you are." The abnormally pale thief flushed as he realised what he had just said. Yami grinned at the pink tinge contrast to Bakura's usual ghost-like appearance. "Well you've managed to both terrify and flatter me all in one speech. Intriguing." Yami and Bakura held each others stare for a few minutes, before the sound of plastic on wood reached them - Yami's cell. Yami looked hesitant as he answered his phone. "Hey Yami, we still haven't found Bakura. Have you seen him?" "No Yugi, I haven't seen him. I'll call you if I do, otherwise call me in about six hours to update me. Right now I need a nap hikari." "Ok Yami, talk soon!" Yami hung up, placing his cell back on the desk. "I suppose the hikari's are out for my blood?" Bakura smirked at the thought of Ryou having a skitz about not being able to find him. Yami nodded, before sinking down onto his bed, running a hand through his hair.

Bakura sat next to him, wrapping an arm round his shoulders and pulling him close. This contact, just a gentle hug, made Yami feel content. Never in a million years did he think he could get anything but anger from Bakura's touch. He could feel the muscles in Bakura's face move; the thief was smiling. Smiling, not smirking. His other hand intertwined its fingers with the smaller mans. Disentangling himself, Yami sat up, before leaning over to kiss Bakura on the cheek.  
Bakura turned and returned it. A faint pink tinge swept the former Pharoah's face, originating from the point of contact. They smiled at each other. Yami couldn't stop staring at it, he'd never seen Bakura really smile. It was sweet in a way, yet still rather peculiar; a whole new side to him even.

Yeah , it's short. I just wanted something sweet to add to it, since the past few were rather dark. There's like 3 other things I'm working on, and one I REALLY want to start. Reviews would be cool, I need constructive criticism. 


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